Stronger Than Death
by Amazon-Aviator
Summary: In which Wilbur tries to preempt 20 years of insensitivity, because he is a true class act. Bewarned: character death and sentimental brooding.


Of all the retarded fics I've written for this fandom, this is actually the first one that came to me. I KNOW THEY SAY THE "L" WORD A LOT BUT GUYS I REALLY DON'T SHIP THEM. AT ALL. That's what stupid fan-characters are foorr

PS: LOL has anyone ever been to the Henry Ford Museum? It is awesome if you're a nerd for inventions and the history of everyday STUFF, for serious.

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It is the first of many times Lewis will come home from school, or college, or a date, or work to find Wilbur in the observatory lab, but he doesn't know it yet. The first time is a shock, too, because the dark-haired figure sitting on his desk is not at all Wilbur as Lewis remembers him.

"Wilbur?" It starts as an exclamation and ends as a question, because the mystery boy stands and straightens to a full six feet tall and Lewis actually backpedals in shock, his mouth hanging open.

It _is_ Wilbur, just...he's so _big_. And _old_. To Lewis's credit, children his age only see teenagers and adults as belonging to one of three age groups: old, older, and ancient. It occurs to him Wilbur is probably really not _that_ old, he could be 18 or 21 or 25...he just doesn't know. He thinks he must still be youngish, at least by adult standards, but he's wearing black slacks and a dress shirt with a tie, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tie loose and he looks like a working man. And his hair is cut so short it doesn't even form a proper cowlick anymore, just a ruffled tuft of black in the center of his hairline.

But it's his face that makes his age so difficult to place. He has the weary look of a young man who feels much older than he should, with heavy brows and tired, dark eyes, and a frowny mouth that looks like it hasn't laughed for days. When he sees Lewis he drags the back of his hand across his eyes and smiles, but Lewis can tell it's forced. His eyes are still so sad.

"Hey," Wilbur says in a much deeper voice than Lewis could ever imagine coming out of him. "What are the odds of running into _you_ here?"

That was probably supposed to be a joke. Lewis forces a polite smile. Wilbur's smile doesn't last. His eyes get dark and his bottom lip kind of trembles and he turns back to face the desk, and Lewis notices he even _moves_ like a grown up. Slow and mature.

But he's still wearing black Converse high tops. Lewis seizes this little shred of youth and familiarity and clings to it. It gives him courage.

"Hey," he says, moving to Wilbur's side and nudging him in the (surprisingly solid) arm. "Look at you, geez. They grow up so fast." A little father-son humor. Ha ha.

"Not bad, huh?" Wilbur never could resist an appeal to his vanity.

"Not bad at all." Lewis nods his approval.

Awkward. Quiet.

"Lewis, I don't have a lot of time--"

Lewis cuts him off with a laugh. "Wilbur, you have all the time in the world."

Wilbur flinches. "Y-yeah. I guess. But look, I can't stay. I just needed to say something." He sits down again, and waits for Lewis to join him. Even sitting, Wilbur towers over him.

"I need you to make a promise for me."

Wilbur's calm, quiet gravity makes Lewis very uncomfortable. "You know, you're kind of freaking me out."

"Lewis, I'm serious--"

"_That's what's freaking me out!_" Lewis cuts him off and realizes how silly his impatient child-voice sounds against Wilbur's calm, grown-up voice. Lewis tries again, calmer. "What _happened_ to you?"

Wilbur fusses with his tie. "I can't say. You wouldn't want me to say. Just. Humor me, okay? It's important."

Lewis hesitates, but nods solemnly.

Deep breath. "Okay. I need you to promise me that you will never, _ever_ forget today, or what I'm about to tell you." At this he thrusts his pinky at Lewis, and it takes the boy a moment to realize someone Wilbur's age wants to make a pinky swear. Lewis hooks his pinky with Wilbur's.

"Swear," he breathes. Clearly this is serious business.

"I," Wilbur begins, "am going to do a lot of really, _really_ stupid shit in my life. I'm going say a lot of really dumb, hurtful things to you. I'm going to do things to spite you, because I'm frustrated, or because I want attention, or because the one person I trust more than anyone else in the _world_ lived thirty years in the past and had to go and grow up into the one person who had to punish me for my secrets. You need to know that I don't mean _any_ of it. I want you to promise, right now, that you will never forget that _I love you_, and you are the best dad a kid could have. Every day, starting now, know I love you, and that every time I didn't say it, I wish I had."

This is a lot for Lewis to take in. He has no trouble believing Wilbur will get into a lot of trouble. He also realizes that he's going to be the one that makes sure he doesn't get away with it. He wonders if he's going to be able to be Wilbur's friend and be a good father at the same time. Judging by the way Wilbur speaks of his childhood, he guesses not.

More importantly, Lewis wonders why Wilbur doesn't give this speech to Cornelius whenever it is he came from. He watches Wilbur pull on his tie.

"Just get home from work?" He asks, nodding at Wilbur's tie.

"Erm. No. This is...no." He doesn't have to say anymore. Lewis knows. At his age, it's a difficult concept to understand, so he doesn't dwell on it. He'll deal with that later. Wilbur is here and he needs help, so Lewis prioritizes.

"I promise," he says, leaning his small shoulder against Wilbur's arm. "And hey, you know you're my best friend, right? Forever. Even when I ground you and send you to bed without dessert."

Wilbur sniffs. "You never once sent me to bed without dessert. That would be cruel."

"Whatever. Whatever I do to make you do and say dumb stuff, I did it because I couldn't handle the thought of you turning out less than amazing."

Wilbur drapes his arm over Lewis's shoulders and they sit in silence.

"You'll be okay," Lewis says finally. "It's not the end of the world."

"It feels like it."

"Mmm."

"And I swore if one more person told me to _keep moving forward_ I'd kick them in the teeth. So don't."

Lewis laughs. "I won't."

Minutes pass. Neither of them are sure how many. They don't do much of anything. They just sit, two friends displaced in time. Wilbur wonders he turned out as normal as he did.

Eventually, he stands and stretches.

"Well."

"Time to go?"

"Yeah. Uhm. Goodbye, I guess."

"Will I see you again before I have to change your diapers?"

"You won't be able to get rid of me." He grins. "I'm usually there for your birthdays and stuff. I'll be around a lot."

"This is it for you?"

Wilbur pushes open the window and leans out to find the time machine. "Last ride. They're going to a museum or something. The Henry Ford, I think."

"Cool." Lewis likes the Henry Ford. It's his kind of place. It'll be nice to be immortalized there, if he isn't already.

"It's what you..." Wilbur stops. Blinks. _What you would have wanted._

"I love you," Lewis says.

"I love you, too."

"And grow out your hair, for crying out loud. Are you a Robinson or aren't you?"

This is maybe the first time Wilbur has genuinely smiled in a week. Lewis thinks that when Wilbur smiles, he is a stunningly handsome young man. He's proud.

"I am." He's going to be okay.

_"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge -- myth is more potent than history -- dreams are more powerful than facts -- hope always triumphs over experience -- laughter is the cure for grief -- love is stronger than death."_

Robert Fulghum


End file.
